


Homestuck Minific Collection

by Imasupermuteant



Category: Homestuck
Genre: BDSM, Drabble Collection, Dubious Consent, F/M, Gun Kink, M/M, Size Kink, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1516772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imasupermuteant/pseuds/Imasupermuteant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short fic written for various prompts on tumblr.  It's mostly porn, let's be honest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jake/Dave Gunplay

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr user shepards-high asked for: Jake (dom) and Dave (sub) where Jake likes to use his guns during sex. Go.
> 
> Tumblr user Rose-Spirit said: hahaha your trigger warning is in fact a warning about literal triggers

“Well then! Are we ready to get started?”

You are not ready. You are too busy remembering being twelve years old and listening to your Bro tell you about the guy he knew from some fucked up kink-club other other who had gotten himself shot.

Not like “tried to knock over a liquor store” shot, or “impregnated a Texan teenager” sho _t. Nah._  This guy went out and found himself a willing top and  _got shot on purpose_. Came in the back of the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Said that it was the best orgasm of his life.

Bro was just trying to freak you out with that little fairy-tale and okay it fucking worked. Scared all the way to bonertown. You spent nearly half an hour sitting on the couch with a pillow over your junk, imagining what it would feel like. Standing naked in a shooting range with your hand on your dick. Knowing that it’s for real.

Bro had chucked an icepack at your crotch and said “You might want to get shot, little man, but don’t you ever trust the type of freak who would shoot you. You hear me?”

“Yes.” You whimper, here and now again because you never listen to a single thing your Bro told you.  You are a terrible offspring. 

“Well good then!”

The first thing you see when Jake removes the blindfold is his goofy disneyland grin. The second is the barrel of the gun.

You squirm in the cuffs as you try to remember if you heard him load it. There had definitely been some ominous clicking sounds, but  _there’s no way_  he would have actually loaded it.

“I really should mention that you might want to hold still, Strider.” Jake tells you as the barrel nuzzles your jaw, “I don’t want to fuck you up  _too_ terribly after all, firearms are no laughing matte!”

Definitely not loaded. You are so hard you think your dick might be numb.  

The barrel brushes against your lips and you can feel a line of sweat run down between your shoulder blades because you were fucking tied up and blindfolded for who knows how long and he _definitely_ had enough time to load it.  Were there bullets on the table? You can’t see the top of it from where you’re kneeling.  

You don’t remember if there were bullets.

But he wouldn't have loaded it.  You are too young and pretty to die. Your hands are shaking in the restraints and he never would load the gun because you haven’t had outdoor sex yet and that was on your list of sex to have. 

Your dick is definitely not numb. It is the opposite of numb. It hurts. You wonder if it’s possible to jizz from fright.

The head of it pushes between your lips in some sick fucking (hot) parody of a blowjob and it’s sharp metal and oil on your tongue.  It’s not loaded but you’re not so sure that  _h_ _e didn’t fucking load it_.  Jake English is bugfuck crazy and  _you are going to die_  if he doesn’t fucking—

“Mr Strider are you attempting to deep throat my piece?” He whispers as you struggle to breathe and swallow around the gun.  He takes a moment to brush a light kiss right below your eye.

“You’ll probably want to be careful not to jostle my hand while I’m fucking your throat” He tells you quietly, “Since my finger is on the trigger.”

 _Bam._  The best orgasm of your life.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Aradia/Equius Sizekink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr user Psychobytch asked for size-kink with a highblood fucking the hell out of a lowblood and then someone else asked for Aradia/Equius femmedomme and I tried to do both and once and came up with… This. Oops.

He looks, Aradia thinks as she tests the strength of the last restraint, as though he’s about to faint. And not in the usual  _too much blood to the bulge_  way. Equius’ eyes are wide and his pupils blown, his nostrils flaring as he pants heavily through his nose. She lays her hand gently on his flank and the muscle twitches in response, breaking out in a cold sweat that is more terror than excitement.  

It should be hot. It usually  _is_ hot, seeing him all worked up like this with his entire torso bound by tight bands of reinforced leather and his legs secured to the feet of the concupiscent sitting-and-pailing device.  He’s huge. Over twice her size, and big enough that Equius had been forced to make the chair himself. They don’t make restraint furniture in highblood-sizes, which Aradia thinks is one of the greatest travesties of the known universe.  

Seeing Equius’ mammoth form well and truly  _bound_ for her pleasure is one of the greatest pleasures of their strange, non-quadranted relationship. That, and the excitement of making such a large and physically intimidating troll tremble at the sight of her.

It it, Aaradia thinks, just a bit less exciting with his eyes rolling in fear instead of arousal and his bulge staying obstinately hidden in it’s sheath despite the fact that she’s already done that thing wit her tongue.

"Equius." She keeps her voice stern and just this side of detached. They might not be in hate, not in a traditional sense, but a pitying tone would ruin the evening for both of them.  "This isn’t about you."

“ _Nnnnn_.” Equius mouths at the bit-shaped gag and doesn’t move an inch. He’s still shivering in a way that’s more reminiscent of a spooked musclebeast than his usual self. His usual self being, of course, reminiscent of a particularly aroused and enthusiastic musclebeast.  

But, as Aradia has already mentioned, this isn’t Equius’ show.  

"Tomorrow I will kick you in the nook and make you call me  _highblood_ —

Equius gives a low moan at the thought and she can’t help but laugh a bit at the pleading look in his eyes. 

"—But today is about  _me_ and what  _I_  want. And I would very much like it if you would fucking  _get it up_.” 

For a moment it seems as if his bulge won’t be obliging her today, still hidden behind the soft uppermost folds of his nook, barely even peaking out from where it retreated right after she’d first mentioned that  _she_  was the one getting fucked today.  But five long seconds of her hard glare and Equius’ cowering, and the tip beings to appear. Aradia doesn’t let herself start to smirk until there’s at least a good inch to work with.  She’s not above grabbing and pulling, after all. 

She tells him so and Equius nearly  _whinnies_  at the thought of it. His breathing starts to sound heavy for reasons other than sheer panic.

“ _Good boy_.” Aradia whispers with a stroke over his chest.  Her hand is dwarfed by his pectoral muscle, but pinching a vestigial chest nub still hurts no matter how large the nub may be.

Once he gets going his nerves just add fuel to the fire. Or, in this specific case, length to the member.  Fully unsheathed and already dripping with preparatory genetic material, the bulge must be pushing eight inches. The tapered tip is nearly a big as  _Aradia’s_  bulge is at it’s base.

It’s big. Big enough, and strong enough, that Equius’ fears of hurting her are pretty well founded.

But Aradia isn’t one to be quelled by gigantic twisting bulges that can maim people.  And the length of the thing is quite manageable once it’s folded in half.

Equius emits a sort of desperate  _squeak_  when Aradia pushes his bulge back onto itself, creating a very ( _very_ ) thick, sturdy, almost mammal-like phallus.  It’s so delightfully kinky that Aradia can’t help but laugh as she clambers up on to Equius’ lap and lets the new blunt tip of it press against her nook.  His thighs are too wide for her to straddle him properly, but she manages to straighten one leg out far enough to get a foothold on the right side.  It’s a stretch, but the burn in her muscles is almost as delicious as the burn of his bulge pushing past her seedflap.

Aradia has been stretching for days to prepare, and even so there’s a moment where she fears she’ll have to back off or risk doing herself an injury.  But with a slight curl on the part of Equius’ bulge and a shimmy of her hips, Aradia is fully seated. She’s practically in a split across Equius’ lap to manage it, but the overall effect is… well…

She’s finding it a bit hard to know what to say next.  And Equius’ is either about to come or cry.   _Maybe both_. As he hasn’t done since the last time she made him spill his slurry all over the floor.  _No buckets allowed._

No buckets are allowed today either, mostly because Aradia intends for the genetic material to end up only in her or all over Equius’ lap.   Or both.  Probably both considering the sheer amounts of slurry that the two of them can produce together.

The bulge  _squirms_  inside her nook, trying to uncurl itself and maybe twist deeper into Aradia (or maybe to get away) but a light slap to the face and a stern “ _stop moving”_  puts a quick end to it.  Aradia has been planning this for a long time. The stretch of Equius’s enormous bulge pressing against her with no room to curl or tickle the way a smaller troll’s might. The  _pain-pleasure_  of having him at her mercy and  _making him hurt her._ It’s intoxicating.  

And Aradia isn’t planning on letting it be over any time soon.  She has time.

"Don’t be in a hurry,  _darling_ " She says with a roll of her hips. The blatantly red endearment makes his entire face flush with shamed arousal.  Aradia rolls her hips in delight,  "We have all the time in the world" 

Today is all about her. She’s going to make it last


	3. Signless/Kankri Torture Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this was written after a request for Signless/Kankri and it sort of got out of hand. This stuff is blatantly out of character an I apologize, but also I just wanted torture porn so I don't apologize at all.
> 
> Actual real life trigger warnings for sexualized violence and dubious consent. Look out.

 

You meet him and your first few thoughts are something along the lines of “what?” and “how?” and “this is preposterous” but that’s quickly replaced by a general feeling of fascination and (you’re slightly ashamed to admit it) awe. 

He’s you. He’s  _you_  in a way that Karkat (no matter how attentive a student) simply _isn't_. And he’s also sort of imposing and muscular and an actual leader despite how problematic his methods may be.  And just as you can’t help but share your thoughts about how to appropriately bring about social change, you can’t help but notice that alternia-you is sort of… well…  _hot_.

You wonder at the potential philosophical ramifications of finding one’s own self from an alternate reality attractive, and it’s certainly a problematic concept which might result in some very difficult feelings and thoughts on the part of anyone you told. Not that you would tell anyone. Certainly not the Signless because he might find the idea of your scrawny naked body unbearably triggering. 

Or he might laugh at you. 

You inhale, and before you have the opportunity to continue telling him how wrong he is there’s a hand wrapping less-than-gently around your throat. Your inhale fails to become an exhale.

“Wow,” The Signless Sufferer says with a smile that only highlights the fact that his lips are far more plush than yours. Which is unfair and frankly improbable. 

“Wow.” He says again as your oxygen distribution sacs start to burn, “You are a dick.  You’re like a whole _bag_  of dicks.” 

You gurgle. There are black spots dancing at the edges of your vision and he’s choking you and he’s still hot even while he’s  _choking you_. 

“Is  this hate?” He asks, “This is new for me. You probably know that, but I think I sort of really hate you. I mean.  Fuck. I want to make you  _check your privilege_ ”

Fuck, indeed.  Your bulge may be unsheathing just a little bit and you’re too busy passing out to contemplate what that means for your sexual identity.

 

* * *

 

When you wake up you don’t know where you are.

It’s a dream bubble, certainly, but you couldn’t say whose memory would conjure this place.  It’s dark, possibly the inside of some fleet ship, with thick carpeting and steel walls.  The light is dim, sort of red-tinted and generally foreboding. Considering your most recent memory, you can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable.

You start to feel a lot more uncomfortable when you realize that you are strapped vertically to a wall, your hands locked above your head in an almost familiar set of restraints.  Your legs are dangling.  

It’s already making your shoulders feel a strained and you start to say that you don’t really want to kink-shame but this might be doing irreparable damage to your rotator-cuffs and that’s when your realize that he’s gagged you. 

You are feeling very,  _very_  triggered right now. 

You let out a yell which sounds an awful lot like a muffled moan, and pull against your bonds as hard as you can.  

The Signless steps into the light. 

“Hey.” he says and he’s smiling again with his improbably plush lips and striding towards you on legs that are are unfairly long.  You always thought you’d reached your adult height before your death. It's looks like you had the potential for at least a couple more inches.  

“Mmmph.” Moving your lips in the attempt to form words means that you not only sound ridiculous but end up drooling around the thick rubber ball in your mouth. It’s embarrassing, and disgusting. There’s faintly red saliva on your chin and wow your bulge is sort of erect. 

"So if you're anything like me I can tell that you're going to like this." He says with a grin, "But If you're anything like the complete  _tool_ you seem to be, you're not going to admit it."

He licks his lips and leans in to give you a lingering kiss below your ear.  It makes you shiver.  

"This is going to hurt." His smile is not forgiving or divine in the least. 

His hand rests on your chest and he leans in to give you an almost impossibly gentle kiss. A brush of lips against the ball of the gag and your bottom lip, a hint of tongue on the corner of your mouth. A warm, flushed feeling spreads throughout your body and you feel the slide of warm liquid on your thigh that means your nook is ready for all comers.  

You feel the Signless’ mouth crook into a smile against your cheek and, with an almost gentle push and a strange twist of his hand, he breaks your rib. 

You float in your mind for a moment before the pain hits and then you’re screaming through the gag. His lips are against your throat to catch the sound.

“You can heal yourself.” He reminds you, “Just remember and it’s gone.” 

You’re not sure that’s how it works but you’re desperately trying to remember yourself whole. This hurts.  It  _hurts_  and no one understands.  Except, you think, maybe the Signless does, because he’s petting your hair and humming at you in a way that’s almost pale. You wonder if his “love that transcends quadrants” isn’t more like all quadrants at once in a sort of fucked up double-mobius crazy-fucking-reacharound. Except that you don’t use the word ‘crazy’ any more because that would be insensitive to the legitimate mental illnesses of pretty much all your friends.

But the quadrants thing. You wonder about the implications of that. And maybe he isn’t so much of a pseudo-religious revolutionary so much as someone with serious boundary issues.  You’d love to discuss his trauma with him in the most respectful and sensitive manner and—

 _Ohshit_  he pressing on the rib and you’re falling back into your body and remembering to  _remember_  so you can think again. 

Getting the trick of it is more than a relief. It’s a high. It’s—

—Something.  You’re not sure. The Signless is licking a line of your drool from the edge of the gag and you might be crying.  You are definitely crying because he’s licking a careful line up your cheek, kissing the corner of your eye.

He slips two fingers into your nook ( _still wet_. It’s  _still wet_  even though he’s  _breaking your fucking bones_ ) and lets his head fall down to where your neck meets your shoulder.  The Signless takes three breaths and you already know something is going to hurt.  

That knowledge does nothing to prepare you for when he bites down on the meat of your shoulder. His teeth are sharp and your skin is frail.  The sound you make is high and long and you remind yourself that it will heal in moments…

Except that he’s not letting go and how can you think yourself healed when his teeth are buried in the wound? He’s fucking you with his fingers as he bites and the pleasure of it makes the wound throb in a matching rhythm.  He moans into your flesh and his thumb presses against the base of your bulge.  

There’s a light feeling behind your eyes that you think might be the beginnings of an orgasm.  

 

 


	4. Dirk and Jade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long long time ago someone asked me for Dirk/Jade and I started writing it and then it sat in my drafts for like six months and I’ve given up here it is. It’s tiny and It’s actually DirkJade and it is secretly part of the ongoing AU in my head where Jade is a naked maid in San Francisco. Woops.

"Is it weird for you that I’ve basically slept with every member of your immediate family?"

You sort of roll your head over so you can look at her without shifting your upper body off the couch. Jade is pretending to study the polish still drying on her toenails. It’s a foolish and obviously insecure gesture, since you applied it yourself and it is fucking perfect.  

"Nah." You say, "They’re pretty slutty anyway."

She slaps you on the shoulder, but it’s obvious that she’s relieved that you don’t hate her, “Don’t say that about your… Okay Dave is pretty slutty.”

"Yes he is. And Bro." You hope she doesn’t start talking about the size of your brothers’ cocks because there is a line where your friendship ends and that is the line.  The line is sibling dicks.

“ _Okay_  but your mother is a seriously classy lady and you should treat her with respect.” 

"Jade. We are not going to discuss your sexual relationship with my mother. I am trying to watch The Breakfast Club." 

"Oh." She turns back to the screen. 

The silence that follows is sort of awkward.

"So do you wanna—"

"Still gay." You say with a lazy roll of your head. 

Jade sighs, “Yeah. Okay. But please tell me that I’m first on your list if you get bi-curious.”

"Jade Harley you are first on  _everyone’s_  list. Please never say ‘bi-curious’ again.”

"Awww you are so sweet." She reaches up to start playing with your hair again. 

There’s a long pause.

"So I have this cousin." She says just as Judd Nelson jumps up on a table, "He’s moving in with me in about a week and he needs someone to show him around."

You don’t look away from the screen, but her hands feel nice in your hair and you lean into the scratch, “Don’t matchmake, Jade.”

"You’re gonna get  _so married_.” 

"Jade!"

"Shhhh, baby. I only want the best for my favorite Strider." 


End file.
